Rammstein Rieders- Ollie Riedel Paul Landers slash
by ramm-me
Summary: Ollie Reidel/Paul Landers slash, contains explicit content so if that offends you, you can always click the x. RAMMSTEIN


**Ollie/Paul slash, Does contain explicit homosexual content so if it offends you, you're welcome to click the x in the corner. **Starts off with Paul's POV, later transitioning to Ollie's. Enjoy!

***Paul POV***

You may think that Olliver is the kind of man who when gets horny, just throw his lover on the first horizontal or vertical disposable surface: well, he usually is, but sometimes, he decides to change the rules, and everything become much more exciting.

When he wants to change, it's a gamble, a slow hunt, he loves to tire his prey and to knock it down with a precise, lethal strike.

I never lack to recognize when he's in this hunting mood: he moves like a big feline who's ambushing a deer, his eyes follow any single move I do, and he plays with me like the cat does with a mouse.

This night he wants to play, he's been teasing me since this morning. I thank god that I've not to move around the stage: he always sends me onstage with a damn hard boner, and fortunately my guitar hides it.

It's his final strike, and he never misses the target: the hours of the concert are a real agony.

He never forgets to make me painfully hard before the concert, he pins me to the wall just five minutes before we go onstage and kisses me hard, grinding his crotch to mine and making me gasp.

"Wait for the aftershow, the hunt will be over. I'll claim you, you're my prey. You know that?" he whispers, licking slowly my neck.

"Y- yes" I pant.

His possessive tone makes me shiver.

I love everything of him. I love him when he's sad and desperate and he needs consolation and when he becomes a horny possessive bastard.

Because I know he loves me.

"And I belong to you, Paul. My prey you may be, but sometimes I think you're a spider and you trapped me in your net… not that I don't like that, of course" he snickers before kissing me lightly. "I love you."

And with this he takes up his bass guitar and covers his boner, leading for the stage.

Fuck, when will come the aftershow?

***Ollie POV***

Finally, finally the show was done, the last pick thrown, the last autograph signed, and we could lead to our bus.

After a shower, I found Paul waiting for me in his bunk, still naked, wet and warm for the shower with only a towel wrapped around his waist, and I never saw something more beautiful than his smile when he sees me.

If I'm the cause of that beautiful smile, I'll never leave him. I want him to be happy and smile.

"Hey, my love" I greeted him with a smile, and I leaned over him, kissing him. "Mine."

"Yes, I am" he smiles, kissing me back. "And you're mine."

"Yes. I belong to you, body and soul, heart and mind, yours."

I kissed him again, properly this time: he tasted of vodka, beer, cigarettes and of course of himself, and that was the best fucking taste ever. I rubbed our groins, and I was rewarded with a loud moan.

I licked slowly the soft skin of his neck, it tasted of steam and clean and… well, skin: I wanted to leave my mark there, everyone had to know that he's mine, so I started to suck the skin to leave the purple mark of a hickey.

"You should not be allowed to wear any clothes. You're so beautiful" I sighed, caressing away the towel and discovering his warm body, kissing him everywhere, on the face, on the neck, on his wide chest, lingering on his hard nipples: he moaned and arched under me, and his hands soon found the towel still covering me and threw it away.

"I'd die, in winter" he chuckled.

"I'd warm you." I kissed him again lazily, taking my time to savor his sweet taste, licking slowly and biting lightly his lips.

"Take it slow, Ollie?" he asked.

"Yes, my love. Everything you want."

I continued to kiss his chest, licking his little pink nipples and sucking his luscious skin, tracing a wet path of purples hickeys and light bites, enjoying every single moan, sigh or choked cry escaped from his mouth.

Soon I arrived to his groin, and started to nuzzle his soft and thick pubic hair with my nose, tracing little circles on his belt with my thumbs.

"Ollie… please…" moaned, curling his toes.

"You were the one who asked to take it slow, baby" I giggled, kissing lightly his tights.

Another hickey would have been perfect there, so I sucked and bite, making him moan again.

"P- please, this is too slow!" he begged, making him smile.

"So… tell me, what you want me to do?" I asked, licking lazily his pubic hair.

"Goddamn you, Oliver, suck me already, or I'm gonna explode!" he cursed, laughing.

I laughed too, and I licked slowly his hard cock, slick with pre-cum. He tasted good, he was salty and warm, and his scent was strong and musky: I drowned myself into it, sucking him eagerly.

It didn't take long for Paul to come in my mouth, crying my name.

"You taste so good" I whispered, kissing him eagerly. I wanted him to feel how good he tasted.

"I want you, Ollie, inside me… now, please!" he begged, and I was even too happy to accomplish, so I rummaged under his pillow for the little bottle of lube: it was always at hand.

I squeezed a good amount of it on my fingers, and I started to poke his hole, making him squirm. "Aww, c'mon –ah!" he gasped when I slowly penetrated him with the first finger.

Even though now he was used to me and my fingering was practically foreplay, he loved to be fingered, so I continued to do it everytime.

I moved my finger inside him, searching for his sweet spot, and when I found it his dick became hard again in a second: I inserted the second and then the third finger, wanking him, scissoring and stretching until he begged me for my cock.

"Ollie… fuck me, please, please! Take me now!"

"As you wish, my love" I replied, leaning to kiss him before coating my dick with lube and penetrating him slowly.

"Mmh, yeah" he panted.

"I know how you like it, slow, hard and deep… you want to feel every inch, don't you? You're a slut, a damn horny and sexy slut, Paul Landers…" I breathed, thrusting hard in his sweet spot and eliciting his cries.

I kissed him desperately, like I was drowning and he was air, drinking his wails and moans, and I sneaked one hand between us, starting to jerk him off frantically. I wanted him to come before me, feeling my thrusts in his spot while he came, I wanted him to cry loud my name, I wanted him to drown in pleasure.

And I succeeded, for he came just a few seconds before me, his hot cum splashing my chest: he cried my name, digging his nails in my back, and I came inside him, howling like a beast.

I collapsed onto him, the waves of orgasm fading slowly, leaving me stunned.

"I love you" I managed to say panting hard, while he took me in his arms and cradled me gently: I didn't even get out, we both loved to stay jointed after our lovemaking.

"I love you too."

From behind the curtain there was a laughter. "Ok, now that you have had sex can we get in our bunks?" asked Till's voice, while Richard started to mock Paul's moans: "Ah, aaah, Ollie, haardeeer, haaardeeer!" and Flake was laughing like fuck.

Well, we didn't blame them, they were our best friends, that was just camaraderie.

"Yeah, yeah. Laugh if you want, but when have you got laid last time?" retorted Paul, with a snort and a chuckle.

"Before the show!" was the immediate reply of our drummer who had pulled the curtain aside to throw Richard on his own bunk.

"I hope you are not going to fuck him in front of us?" protested Till, snorting.

"Why not? He's so hot when I fuck him, you should like to watch" grinned the drummer from over our poor guitarist.

I and Paul were laughing so hard that soon we run out of breath, and we started to gasp, almost choking.

I love to be in this band, I would not exchange my life with something else for all the gold in the world: we play music, drink, laugh, fuck and love, and I could not desire anything else.


End file.
